


Sorry If I Say Some Things I Mean

by Somekindofflower



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Begins with Sam/Luka and Abby/Jake, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Fights, Light Angst, Past Abortion, Romantic Fluff, Smut, eventually, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somekindofflower/pseuds/Somekindofflower
Summary: Canon divergence from 11x20: You Are Here. Sam and Luka continue fighting about her pregnancy scare and their future and Sam lets slip something about Abby. Luka goes to confront her and a fight ensues.
Relationships: Luka Kovač/Abby Lockhart
Comments: 46
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: this is not business as usual for me. This is Luka at possibly his most oblivious and unself-aware point, saying and doing some really stupid things that hurt poor Abby, who is just trying to move on and find a new way to be happy. It will get better, and knowing me there will definitely be a happy ending eventually, but certainly not in this chapter.
> 
> (Also for those who read FRI, the next chapter is almost ready. Thanks for being patient!)

It’s been a day of arguing and avoidance and Luka’s sick of it. He’s tired of Sam and the way she pushes him to talk, as if that’s going to fix anything, and he’s tired of her acting like whatever he does reveal is wrong. He’s tired of himself, too.

The whole time they’ve been in this relationship, he’s kept pushing forward, waiting for that moment when it feels like he’s part of a family again. He’s still not there. If they would just have kids, maybe...but today has blown that to hell. 

She doesn’t want more kids. Ever.

What’s he supposed to do with that?

Alex is enough is what he should say, but...Luka loves Alex. He does. He’d happily claim him as his own, if either Sam or Alex would allow it. But in spite of everything, they repeatedly remind him that he is not Alex’s father, not even a stepfather. And damn it, it hurts. 

Every time Sam lets him help, lets him do the talking or the picking up or the contact with the school, he gets his hopes up. And every time, it turns out it was because it was something she didn’t want to do. It has nothing to do with him at all. 

If she doesn’t want more children, why are they even together?

As usual when this train of thought gets going, he throws the brakes before he does something rash. He’s been in this spot before, ready to give up out of frustration in the middle of one fight and he’s regretted it for years. It’s a mistake he refuses to make again. Of course, it hasn’t been  _ one  _ fight with Sam, unless you count it as one fight they keep having over and over. And over.

“What would you have done if it were positive?”

Sam’s annoyed scoff and quirked eyebrow is all the answer he gets, but it’s enough. 

“Really? You wouldn’t even consider having it?”

“No.” Any remaining hopes pretty much die at how dismissive she is. “I didn’t even think it was something you would want. With how you lost your family, I didn’t think you’d go there again. And I know you’re not as close with Abby as you used to be, but her abortion doesn’t seem to have affected your relationship.”

...Huh? There’s a buzzing in his ears. Abby...what?

“What?”

“I didn’t think you’d want kids. You never talk about it, and—”

“No, what about Abby?”

“I know you two dated briefly, but you were still good friends by the time I got here, so I assume you’re alright with each other.”

The word “briefly” pierces sharply through the numbness that’s settled over him for a moment, but he can’t lose his focus. “What abortion?”

The irritation finally slides off Sam’s face at that. But his rising panic prevents him from caring.

“She didn’t tell you about that? I guess I just assumed...I mean, she told  _ me _ and she doesn’t even like me…maybe it wasn’t you.”

Luka can’t wait, he has to go now. He has to get to Abby now, has to know. Sam calls after him, but he ignores her as he grabs his keys and runs out.

* * *

  
  
  


It’s been forever since he’s stood in front of Abby’s door. The lock he installed is less shiny but still sturdy-looking. He bangs on the wood and hopes he doesn’t puke on it. After three tries, he flops down on the floor and leans back with his eyes closed.

It vaguely registers that his relationship with Sam is probably over. But he doesn’t care, not at this moment while he’s wondering if his relationship with Abby was never what he thought it was. If what Sam said is true then they’ve never been friends or more the way he thought they were.

Sam could be wrong. But then, why wouldn’t Abby have told him? They didn’t talk enough when they dated— _ briefly _ , apparently, and that word itself hurts like hell—they’ve shared so much since. There has to be a good reason she didn’t tell him, and the baby being his is the only thing that makes sense in his current state. Like Sam said, Abby doesn’t like her, so it doesn’t make sense otherwise.

And why is that? Sam hasn’t gotten close to any of their coworkers, but Abby usually gets along with everyone. Well, come to think of it, not  _ everyone. _ She hated Nicole, but that turned out to just be good sense.

There’s a slight commotion as the door to the lobby opens and he hears her come in. She’s not alone.

“See, I’m inside now. All fine.”

A male voice answers then, one that sounds sort of familiar, but he can’t place it. “Okay. You’re sure I can’t stay?”

“Sorry. Your family is great, but I’m beat. I need to get some sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’m not on until the day after, but I’ll call you.”

“Alright,” he can hear the disappointment and he realizes it’s that med student. Scanlon. They’re dating? She met his  _ family?  _ “Good night, then.” 

“‘Night.” 

The unmistakable sound of them kissing makes him wince. How did he miss this too? With this surprise on top of everything, any calm he managed to talk himself into goes out the window.

“What the hell am I doing?” Abby whispers to herself and it brings him up short for a second, but it’s not enough.

Anger’s got him tempted to spring on her as soon as she’s in sight, but the memory of Brian stops him. When her steps get close, he calls her name so it won’t freak her out too much when she finds him crouched at her door like a creeper. 

“Luka?” She freezes as she stares down at him. The outfit she’s wearing was clearly picked to impress Scanlon’s family and he has no doubt that she did. He can’t help but admire her in it, which only makes him more agitated. He didn’t even  _ know.  _ “What are you doing here? Are you okay?” 

“I’m…” He tries to say ‘fine’, but it sticks in his throat, so he waves his hand helplessly. 

As she unlocks her door, she throws him a concerned look. “You want to come in?”

Reluctantly nodding, he hauls himself up behind her and through the door. She closes but doesn’t lock it behind her and he glowers then latches the deadbolt as well as the chain. He catches the tail end of her eye-roll and it doesn’t help quench the rage he’s trying to contain.

“You’re dating that guy? Scanlon, what’s his name, Jack?”

“Jake. And yes.”

“He’s a med student. You’re an intern.”

“I’m aware of that. Lewis and Weaver know and are fine with it. It’s why he doesn’t shadow me anymore. Is that why you’re here?” The confusion on her face is completely justified, but it makes him snap.

“No, I didn’t know. But that’s not surprising, since you don’t tell me anything important.”

Shit, shit, shit, he didn’t mean to attack her like this, but he’s letting it out and now he can’t stop. It’s why he shoves down his anger, when it comes, it erupts over everything. Her eyes flash letting him know he’s in for a battle now, and he’s meanly glad.

“Oh, are we talking to each other now? Are we friends who tell each other stuff like who we’re dating? How would I tell you anything when I barely even see you anymore?”

She’s right and he knows it, but he’s too mad to admit it. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what the hell?”

“I knew you regretted our relationship, but I didn’t realize it was this much. I mean, you didn’t tell me you were an alcoholic, or that you and Carter were together, or this, why am I surprised that you didn’t tell me you had an abortion?”

Abby’s head flies back in shock. “Wha—how do you even know about that? Did Maggie…?” She stops and scoffs in annoyance. “Sam. She  _ told you?!” _

“Yeah, and I would never know if it were up to you!”

“Yes, because it’s none of your damn business!”

“How is it none of my business when I was the father?”

Abby stares at him slack-jawed for a second before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She shakes her head and paces before pointing at the couch. “Sit.”

“I don’t want t—“

_ “Sit. Down.” _

Pissed though he is, the steel in her voice makes him obey. He shuffles over to the couch and huffs as he drops onto it.

“I didn’t tell you about the abortion because I didn’t even know you when it happened.” 

What? “But Sam, she said…” He thinks back. It’s possible Sam said she didn’t know who, but the way she put it made it sound sure that he was the father.

“Well, Sam didn’t just break a pretty huge confidence, she also jumped to a huge conclusion. A wrong one.”

His shoulders sag as relief overwhelms him. Abby didn’t...she didn’t. She’s still the same. They’re still the same.

“I...I freaked out. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you should be.”

He looks up from his hands, surprised at the level of vitriol in her response. She’s usually pretty forgiving. 

“You set these boundaries, Luka. You’re the one who decided we’re coworkers and nothing more—without even telling me, by the way. And I hate it, but I respect it because it’s what you want. But then you come over here to dredge up a private, painful part of my life and throw a hissy fit over me keeping secrets. You can’t have it both ways.”

“I—“ Cold horror seeps into him as he thinks over his behavior tonight from her perspective. Oh, God, what has he done?

“As for not telling you things? Talk about the fucking pot calling the kettle black. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I felt some shame over being an alcoholic? That maybe I was trying to have a new start and leave that behind? I know I didn’t handle our relationship right, but neither did you. I’ve regretted a lot of things about that, but I’ve never...I’ve never regretted that we happened. Not—” She breaks off abruptly and shakes her head.

He’s 90% positive she was about to say “until now”, and the unspoken words hit their mark dead center. His eyes squeeze shut at the pain that unfurls in his chest. After all they’ve weathered, a fight between him and Sam is going to be their breaking point. 

The worst part is when he opens his eyes and looks into Abby’s. The anguish in them twists his gut. He’s really done it this time.

“Go home, Luka. Go home and figure out whatever stupid argument you and Sam are having now that led to whatever this was. I was wrong, maybe you...deserve her.”

It’s clear that that is  _ not  _ a compliment. “Abby…”

She walks over to the door and holds it open. He wants to stay, to make it right, but he can’t see any possible way to do that. All he can do is stop. Regret weighs down his steps like cement as he moves to leave.

When he reaches her, he can feel the tension in her coiled so tight it’s about to break. He can’t help it. He’d say his hand moved of its own accord, but it’s not true—his heart just can’t take it. His hand lands on her arm. Abby sways forward like she’s about to collapse against his chest, but at the last second she jerks away like she’s been burned. 

“Abby, please,” he begs, not even knowing what for. She can’t magically undo what he’s done to her. 

“Go, Luka, please,” she whispers back as she stares determinedly away from him and he finally does.

The door shuts softly behind him and he stands there, dazed. The deadbolt and then the chain lock into place and he still stands there. He hears it then, a quiet sound almost like a cough. She’s crying. 

His heart shatters and he goes, unsure how exactly he just destroyed everything he cares about in one night.  
  
  
  


  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Luka's outburst at Abby leads to turmoil, talks, and a breakup (or two).

Luka makes his way home in a despondent fog. He can’t believe he did that. What is  _ wrong _ with him? Who has he become? Has focusing so hard on Alex and Sam made him so different that he can’t see anyone else anymore?

Or is it that he can’t see Abby and make things work with Sam?

Of course, that’s a moot point now. Abby probably hates him. 

No, she won’t hate him. That’s not Abby. But with how thoroughly he’s shut her out of his life, she might simply let him succeed. The one thing he’s not going to fail at is the one thing he wishes he would. 

Worse, he hurt her, enough to make her cry. 

A long-suffering sigh heaves from deep in his gut as he sticks his key in the lock. The place he bought to live with Abby, where Sam is probably waiting to continue their argument. Fighting is getting so old. With the way this night has gone, he’s pissed at her too. Right now, he’s full of so much regret and hurt over Abby that he can’t dredge up the resolve to patch things up with Sam.

“Please call me back as soon as possible. Thanks.” Sam snaps her cell phone shut and he looks at her in question.

“What was that about?”

“I left a message with my real estate broker to make appointments for me to view apartments tomorrow.”

The hits keep coming. “What? Just like that, you’re giving up? Without talking to me about it?”

Caustic laughter spills out of her as she gawks at him. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who won’t talk! Not to me, anyway.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve been begging you to talk for weeks and you say it won’t help anything, but the second something comes up about Abby, you run over there to talk to her.”

Shit. She has a point. But even just hearing her say Abby’s name pokes at that wound. And ticks him off. 

“Can we not do this tonight? I probably just lost my best friend in the world because of what you said and what I did about it, so I’d, just, please.”

Sam huffs angrily. “You win. We won’t talk. There’s nothing to talk about anyway. We don’t want the same things, we don’t connect, there’s no point in continuing to pretend.”

He wants to fight her, wants to give her all the reasons they should stay together, but right now he can’t come up with a single one aside from not wanting to be alone. That and “Alex. What about Alex?”

“Alex will be fine. He’ll miss you, I guess, but he’s still asking when we’re going to live with Steve again. He’s not going to make my decisions. It’s not like he’s unaware there’s something off between us.”

Does Alex really care so little? Is this what he’s been pushing for, a pseudo-family that doesn’t actually love him? Abby’s face, heartbroken and hurt—not only from tonight, either—comes to mind. He gave up that deep, solid friendship and whatever else they were for this, and he’s realizing he made the wrong choice. Any desperate arguments he could assemble crumble under the weight of that.

His heart feels battered and bruised. First Abby, now Alex. And Sam, of course.

“So that’s it? We’re just over?”

Sam groans in frustration and he stifles his own. “Yeah. Unless you talk to me, right now.”

His stomach flips. “I don’t—what do you want to know?”

“Anything! God, Luka, anything real or important. About your wife and your kids. About Abby.”

Everything in him revolts at the thought. The idea of dragging any of that out for her to peruse and judge is impossible. 

A moment later, Sam shakes her head. “That’s what I thought. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

Good, yes, if he can get her into bed, calm her down a bit, they’ll be alright. 

Except instead of ascending the stairs, she moves toward the couch, where he now sees she has laid out her pillow and a blanket. 

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

She cuts off the lamp and rolls onto her side, away from him.

Wanting to do something to fix this, he hovers, but he’s still unable to give her what she wants. Minutes later, he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling. Why can’t he talk to her? It’s true that he isn’t a champion talker at all, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t even  _ want _ to talk to Sam. Not about Danijela, Jasna, Marko, not about Abby. Not about any of the things that are precious to him. If she’s who he’s going to spend his life with, he should be able to talk to her about anything.

Like he is with Abby.

Shit. He’s worked so hard not to think this way, not to compare, because no one is going to win against Abby, but this day has shot it all to hell. Abby and he didn’t talk enough either, but it was different then. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to share with her. He did. There was so much guilt over loving her, over how damn happy he was with her while he was still grieving his family so hard. Is that what this is? Guilt?

It’s not. While he still grieves his family, Sam and Alex are a wholly different thing. Perhaps too different.

But with Abby, he wanted to tell Abby everything.  _ Wants _ to tell Abby everything. The way he once did with Danijela, or even more. The way he doesn’t even want to try with Sam.

Groaning, he rolls over, wondering if he can fall asleep alone anymore. It’s likely that he’s going to have to get used to it.

* * *

  
  
  
  


  
“He  _ didn’t.  _ She  _ didn’t!”  _ Susan gapes at Abby in horror. 

“Unfortunately, they both did.” 

“Are you going to kill them? Hell,  _ I  _ want to kill them.”

“It’s crossed my mind a few hundred times.” Yeah, after crying herself to sleep last night, she woke to the fury that is now her leading emotion. What  _ is  _ wrong with them? Both of them? Has Luka changed that much? It was a no-brainer to ignore his phone call while she was getting ready.

The other surprise call is the one she got from Susan this morning. At first, Abby thought she was getting called in, but she wanted her company for lunch instead. 

Their friendship has faltered this year, maybe unsurprisingly, with the arrival of Cosmo and their changing work relationship. But she’s missed Susan. And as much as she loves Neela, she needs to talk to someone who doesn’t need the whole Luka backstory explained, someone who knows better than to ask why her eyes get suspiciously wet when she explains what happened. It’s also better than spending the whole day at home stewing.

Susan snorts over her burger. “We’re doctors who want to kill our coworkers. Sadly, not that unusual for County, but it seems like a liability when we have access to so many drugs and sharp tools.”

Abby isn’t fooled by the glib front any more than Susan is by hers. They’re both the walking wounded. Carter and Kerry are good people and good friends themselves. But she knows better than most how oblivious Carter can be to his privilege, while Kerry sometimes goes along with the party line even when she knows it’s bullshit. Kerry would never elevate someone based on money rather than merit herself, but she does like Carter, and if she has to choose between siding with the board and losing the approval of the higher-ups, well…

All of it is awful.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty clear I don’t have a future here. If the board disapproves of me this much, I don’t see it working out long term.”

Abby scowls as she chews her chicken and swallows. “It’s not fair. You haven’t had time! You can’t fix the department in a few months.” 

“Yeah. I mean, I know I haven’t been getting enough grants or doing research, but there’s so much real good to do in the day-to-day work. Apparently that doesn’t matter.” She hesitates as she sips her water. “Even if I was, I still don’t think it would have made a difference. I don’t have millions to donate. I mean, I know Carter’s doing a good thing with the clinic, but he doesn’t even want to be here. I still don’t know why he even applied for tenure.” 

Abby pretends not to see Susan blinking tears away. They both concentrate on their meals for a while, unsure what’s left to say about that. It’s not anything either of them can change. 

Susan finally changes the subject, but Abby’s gratefulness is short-lived. “How are you and Jake?”

“We’re fine.” She shrugs, hoping that’s all she’ll have to say, because every second she hasn’t spent hurting or raging over what Luka said last night has been spent tormented over what she’s going to do about her current boyfriend.

Susan looks at her pointedly until she gives in and continues. 

“He took me to a family thing. A baptism—I had to be up front and answer the priest’s questions and everything, it was  _ weird. _ All of his relatives were going on about marriage and having babies. I mean, I’m happy for him that he has that. But it was a lot.”

Susan chews as she takes that in. “Okay, but how do you feel about him?”

“He’s such a great guy, a sweetheart. I really like him.”

“But?”

“I didn’t say ‘but’.”

“Oh, you did. Just not out loud.”

Busted. “Jake is perfect. He’s kind and sweet and wonderful, but I’m not...he’s not…”

Susan’s eyes are too knowing, too sympathetic, and Abby feels her own prickle. “He’s not the guy you’re in love with.”

Abby almost hugs her for not saying his name. “Yeah. How stupid is that? I have proof here of how much that’s not ever going to happen but somehow I still can’t move on. I have this guy who’s crazy about me, who I click with, who I ought to fall in love with, but I just can’t.”

Early on, when they were enjoying the moment, it was great. Now that Jake keeps pushing conversations about the future, having her meet his family, making all sorts of serious overtures, she’s in trouble. She can’t let him make decisions that affect his future all about her, when she knows in her gut they don’t have a future together. Why couldn’t he let them be happy as they were? 

It’s scary. If anyone fits the bill for helping her let go of Luka and move on, it ought to be Jake. If there were no Luka, she’d probably be head over heels already. Why can’t her stupid heart let go? Will she ever conquer this?

“Mm,” Susan hums sympathetically. “He leaves tomorrow on his trip?”

“Yeah, tomorrow morning.” Abby selfishly hopes he falls in love with one of the programs far away, so they can stay friendly and avoid a messy breakup. Chicago is his home, though, so that’s probably not realistic. “We’re going out tonight.” Time to get out of the hot seat. “So what are you going to do?”

As Abby heads home from a lunch that hopefully isn’t her last with Susan in Chicago, she feels a little less alone but no less confused. Her heart still aches from last night, a reminder of how much she feels for Luka and shouldn’t. She longs for time to get her head on straight. Life won’t allow her that, but she’s also starting to wonder if there will ever be enough time.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Luka clenches his jaw as Sam stomps away from him and the empty trauma room. He shucks off his smock, gloves and goggles and violently tosses them one by one into the garbage. 

Carter pokes his head in. “Hey, want to go get some coffee?”

Luka shakes his head.

“Okay, I was trying to be subtle, but it’s not really a request. We need to talk.”

Rolling his eyes, Luka follows him to the lounge. “Did Sam ask you to put me in my place?”

“Nooo, that would be Haleh, Ray, Malik, and Morris.”

Wow. He knows he’s being petulant and unprofessional, but he didn’t realize it was so bad that even Ray and Morris would weigh in. 

“You and Sam are still fighting? What’s going on?”

“She’s moving out.”

“Oh.” Carter sits down at the table and gestures for Luka to sit, but he’d rather pace.

“It turns out she doesn’t want more kids. She’s mad because I do. Then I went over to Abby’s and we fought and now she’s mad at me too.”

Carter’s eyes widen at Abby’s name and then squint in confusion. “I’m lost. Walk me through what happened.”

“Sam had a pregnancy scare and didn’t tell me. I only know because I found the test. So we’ve been fighting about that and she said...something...about Abby and I had to go find out what she was talking about.” Luka’s a little relieved that Carter only looks more confused at that. Carter didn’t know. He’s certainly not going to be the one to explain if Abby didn’t. “So I went over to Abby’s.”

“In the middle of the fight?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t home. I tried to calm down while I waited, but then she came home with—did you know she’s dating that med student?”

“Jake? Yeah, for a while now. I thought everybody knew, you didn’t?”

Luka huffs. “Nope. I didn't. And I didn’t stay calm. I yelled at her about keeping things from me: that, the alcohol, what Sam said, that you—some other stuff.” He blushes before looking glancing guiltily at Carter, but he’s busy pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. It, uh, didn’t go very well.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“She yelled at me for demanding information when I’ve been pushing her away and...something about black pots?”

“The pot calling the kettle black?” Yeah, that’s the one, whatever the hell it means. “She was calling you a hypocrite.”

Well, that’s no less than he deserves.

“Turns out Sam was wrong anyway, so I went over there and blew up at Abby for no reason. She’s pissed and she should be.”

Carter looks kind of mad himself. “You probably really hurt her.”

Luka cringes at the memory of hearing her cry through the door. He didn’t think she’d be that upset, but that’s no excuse. Usually he’s the guy wanting to hit someone else for hurting her. Too bad he can’t kick his own ass. 

“Yeah,” he chokes out. 

“Where’d you leave things with Sam?” Carter asks after an awkward pause.

“I got home and she was on the phone with her real estate broker. She’s moving out and she won’t even discuss it. That’s why we’re—” he waves his hand in the direction of the trauma rooms. That and because she brought Abby into their mess. Well, technically he did that, but on her word.

“So you’re trying to convince her to stay?” Carter’s incredulity grates. “Is that even what you want?” 

“I don’t understand why she wants to leave that easily. We have a life together, Alex has a stable home. We throw that away because of some disagreements?”

“That doesn’t tell me what  _ you _ want, Luka.”

“I don’t…” He shrugs. “I’m confused. I’m not sure I am...happy, but I still don’t want...I don’t know.” 

“Do you want my two cents?”

“I guess.” It can’t hurt, right?

“You aren’t happy. Sam is right. You want different things and there’s no point in dragging it out. And even if she was wrong, she’s still allowed to break up with you. You don’t have to agree with her reasoning.”

Luka grimaces as he has to acknowledge that.

“You also seem way more upset about this thing with Abby than you are about Sam.”

That’s also true. But it’s  _ Abby. _ What’s he supposed to say? “I hurt her. Because of something Sam told me. And I...I was an idiot, I don’t know how to fix it.”

“For starters, apologize. And quit avoiding her.”

“It’s not that different from how she pushed me away when you two were together,” Luka mumbles. He’s surprised at the amount of bitterness that still wells up.

Carter gives him an appraising look that kind of makes Luka want to punch him. It’s a cross between pity and all-knowing that gets under his skin, but then Carter chuckles dryly and blinks it away. 

“Okay, it’s not that different, but you saw how well that worked out. Abby and I aren’t still together.” He waits for Luka’s head tilt of agreement before continuing. “And I’m going to ask you—the way I should’ve asked her—why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? If you’re over Abby and you and Sam are good, why do you need to push Abby away?”

Luka stares at Carter. Is it too late to decide to hit him?

“You know, when I was with Wendall,” Carter starts and Luka struggles to follow the change. “I hoped I could wave a wand and start over with her. I tried to ignore it, but I knew deep down I couldn’t. I was still in love with Kem—still am. It was wrong, but I didn’t want to be alone.”

“What are you saying?” His heart is pounding, afraid of the words, and he really hopes Carter doesn’t go there.

Carter shakes his head in disappointment. “You aren’t the only screw-up when it comes to relationships. Just think about it.”

“Okay.”

“And apologize to Abby.”

“I tried last night, and I called her place at lunch. She wouldn’t pick up.”

“Yeah, well, keep trying. You don’t need to be fighting two women at work.”

Don’t remind him. “I know. I’ll figure something out.” As he drags a hand over his face, he hopes that’s not a lie. “And I’ll try to work with other nurses until Sam and I cool down.”

“On behalf of all your coworkers, and the patients, thank you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Luka sheepishly nods. Carter’s been more understanding than most. At least he didn’t suggest couple’s therapy like Susan did. What a waste that would be.

  
  
  
  


A couple hours later, Luka manages to corner Sam in lockup. She bristles at him like a mad cat, but he holds up a hand. 

“I’m not going to fight, but can we talk tonight? Figure out some logistics.”

Carter’s right. He doesn’t even really want to be together, and neither does she. It’s time to accept it. Even as the gnawing fear of being alone again threatens to overwhelm him.

Sam finally nods. “After work, at ho—at your place?”

“Okay,” he mutters before turning around and heading straight back to work.

Maybe he can still be involved in Alex’s life somehow, though even as he thinks that, he knows Sam won’t allow it. Hell, she’s barely allowed it even while living together. But at least he can let Alex know he can come to him if he ever needs anything. It’s cold comfort, but it’s better than nothing.

When he gets home from his shift, she’s there, packing boxes. 

“Alex went to Erica’s. I didn’t want him here for this.”

“Okay. You’re already packing?” That’s ridiculously fast, she can’t have found a decent place yet. Is she willing to live in a hole to get away from him?

“Yeah, um, my broker found somebody who has to leave the city and they need to sublet in a hurry. I set up movers for next week.”

“That’s awfully quick.”

Sam bites her lip and looks away. “Um...well, I kind of called him a few weeks ago and told him I was looking. He’s been sending me options.”

Anger swells inside of him again. “You’ve been looking that long?”

“Yes.” The lift of her chin tells him she’s prepared for a fight if he gives her one. “We haven’t been working for a while, Luka.”

The fight drains out of him almost as quickly as it came. It’s true, even as he wishes he could will it not to be. It’s futile to argue the hypocrisy in Sam hiding this from him while insisting he tell her his deepest thoughts and feelings. 

“What do you want to do?”

She scrunches her nose. “I guess I can stay down here on the couch while we’re packing and getting ready to leave. We could stay at a hotel or something if you want your own space sooner.”

“No, no,” he answers quickly, even though if they’re going to leave he’d prefer to get it over with. “Alex has had enough moving around, I don’t want that. I can go stay at a hotel.” He’s certainly done it before.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sam automatically responds, but her face clears at the offer. It’s what she wants. 

“I’ll go pack,” he says, heading for the stairs, wanting to get out of this place before the words he’s holding back erupt. 

Barely paying attention to what he’s grabbing, he tosses a bunch of things into his duffel bag. Hopefully it’s enough because he doesn’t need a second round of this. Being kicked out of his own place, even if he offered, is irritating enough that he’s tempted to go yell at Sam some more. At least a week at a hotel is better than a week here with her like this, always on edge.

As he searches the living room for a journal he hasn’t yet read, he’s congratulating himself on his ability to bite his tongue when Sam speaks and ruins his efforts at a peaceful exit.

“Why didn’t you tell me about you and Abby?”

He whirls around. “That’s what you have to say to me about Abby?”

“It’s pretty obvious it was more serious than she let on, and you never said anything about it.”

Luka stares at her in amazement and she stares back, stone-faced. “You’re not even sorry about it, are you?”

“I guess I shouldn’t have mentioned the abortion, but how was I supposed to know you’d run over there?”

That’s seriously all she can say? “Why do you want to know? What does it matter now?”

Sam huffs. “You know everything about me and Steve and now you’re saying she was your best friend, but I never saw that.” The accusation in her tone is cutting.

Things are rapidly becoming clearer to him. It’s not just his feelings for Abby that keep him from sharing with her. When Abby asked, the little she did and tentative as it was, it was care for him: wanting him to be okay, wanting to know him better. Sam doesn’t actually care about that, and possibly not even about him. That’s why she’s always gone straight for his tragedies rather than ask about his country or his parents or childhood. It’s a scoresheet with her. That might be unfair, but he’s done giving her the benefit of the doubt. 

It also dissolves any guilt he feels over not telling her more as well as any desire to try. “You never asked. And she is, or was.” He leans back over to grab the journal. “I’ll see you at work, I guess.”

“I—okay.” She frowns at his refusal, but seems to realize she doesn’t have the right to insist anymore.

“Tell Alex…tell him I’ll be around if he wants to see me.” He hates that he can’t even say goodbye.

“I’m sure he’ll come by County sometimes,” Sam says. 

A lump rises in his throat and he tries to clear it. There ought to be more to say to her, about them, but there isn’t. “I’ll see you.”

He goes, feeling lonely but also strangely, to his own surprise, at peace. He'll never have to do that again.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“Mmhmm,” Abby nods at whatever Jake is saying as she pokes her pasta with her fork. 

Her head and heart aren’t in it tonight. Lunch was a welcome catharsis and distraction, but then she had the afternoon to herself. Furiously cleaning the apartment was an acceptable outlet for the anger, but it couldn’t keep the melancholy at bay.

As much as she hates Luka ignoring her, it’s the only way she’s been able to do this, she concludes. When she barely sees him, she can at least make an attempt at pretending he doesn’t exist, and if he doesn’t exist, he can’t derail things with Jake. Or if she’s able to believe that he’s off not caring about her, she can pretend she doesn’t care about him either. Now he’s shot that all to hell. Mad as she is (and boy is she), she can’t get his tortured face from the night before out of her mind. No one looks like that if they don’t care.

Uselessly, she tries to shove that away, because he doesn’t deserve for her to ache for him when he’s the one in the wrong. All those feelings are loose and she can’t get them back in the box.

Unfortunately, Jake picks up on it. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m exhausted. What were you saying?” Hoping he’ll drop it, she hedges. It’s not technically a lie, at least.

“I was talking about my trip. Do you not want me to go?”

_ Shit.  _ The last thing she wants is for him to cancel. “No, no, you have to go!” Her emphatic response seems to pain him, so she hastens to add. “It’s great that you’re getting a chance to see everything in person. That way you know you’re making the best decision.”

Her fingers twist her napkin under the table. She doesn’t want to hurt him, especially not while he’s in the midst of making this life-altering decision. Or is that just an excuse? Is this just another facet of her being a chickenshit in relationships? She needs to end it.

“Jake, I don’t know…”

He looks down at his plate before looking up at her imploringly. “So, if it works out, I might get to observe brain surgery with this guy at Tulane.”

Abby can’t help but give in to his unspoken plea to put that conversation off. “That’s...that’s great.”

“Yeah, he’s one of the frontrunners in the field. He’s got this trial…”

The chat remains firmly on medicine and his trip until they reach her door. Abby cringes at how uncomfortable the whole thing is, even as she pauses to be thankful no one is lying in wait for her. 

“Listen,” Jake says, taking her hand, and despite the fact that she’s not in love with him, Abby’s heart jolts at the desperation in his eyes and voice. “I know my family freaked you out. All that talk about marriage and babies. But I don’t expect any of that any time soon.”

“I know, but Jake, I don’t think I can ever give you that.” Abby kind of hates herself—and Luka—for the moment that hits him and she can practically see his heart break. She never expected him to get this attached to her.

“Please just...just wait a couple days, okay? Don’t say anything now that we might regret later. Wait a couple days and maybe, I don’t know, you’ll miss me like crazy and realize you’re just scared.”

For not knowing her that long, he’s got a pretty good idea of how she operates. Usually, that would be her M.O. But it’s not fear this time. She almost wishes it were. Still, how can she deny him such a simple request?

“Okay. I guess I can do that.” 

Jake shuts his eyes and kisses her gratefully. Oh, she feels like such a jerk. 

“Do you want to come in?” She asks tentatively, trying to hand him an olive branch.

“Nah, I’ve got to be at O’Hare at 4.” He forces a confident smile. “Plus, you’ve got to get started on missing me.”

The thing is, she  _ will _ miss him. He showed up and saw her when she was struggling and lonely and feeling invisible. She needed that, and he does have a little piece of her heart for it. But somebody else has the rest. If the past year and Luka being such a dick the night before didn’t cure that, she’s pretty sure nothing will.

The kiss he gives her then is deep and she can feel the need in it. She wishes she could respond in kind.

“Have a good trip,” is all she can think of to say when she pulls away and he leans in to hug her. 

The sigh he lets out against her hair is mournful. “I’ll call you.” 

After he leaves with a forced wink, she goes inside, feeling terrible. What a mess. She might have been lonely before Jake, but she wasn’t getting other people involved in this stuff. She hates hurting him, but how much more will it hurt the longer she puts it off?

The blinking of the answering machine provides a much-needed distraction, so she goes and hits the button. The momentary silence has her thinking it’s a wrong number and reaching for the delete button, but then there’s an intake of breath and her heart speeds up in recognition that it’s Luka before a word is spoken.

“Abby, I...I just want you to know I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’ll stop calling if you don’t want to talk, but...I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Dropping her purse right there, she makes a beeline for the couch and collapses on it, throwing her head back and groaning into the night.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby is pissed and lets Sam know it. Poor Jake is put out of his misery. Luka broods and attempts to pin down Abby for a well-deserved apology, but is thwarted by Abby and the rest of the ER staff until he finally takes drastic measures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to @JenT4 for being my medical consultant for this chapter! I'm sure those of you who have read my fics have noticed I don't get into the medical side, and that is for two reasons: 1. I'm not a doctor. Obviously. and 2. I am incredibly squeamish, which is why I didn't watch ER for many years. It makes the fact that ER is one of my favorite shows a little interesting, and I quickly developed a good sense of when to look away. All that to say that when I need to delve into it a little, it's a huge help to have someone to ask and I greatly appreciate it!
> 
> Also, heads up that our messy pair continues to be messy AF even as they semi get their stuff together and if you avoid smut...I don't want to tell you not to read the last section because it also contains a lot of other important things, but you'll want to skip the end.

Abby’s immensely relieved to find that Luka isn’t on during the day with her. It’s not surprising, since they’ve rarely been scheduled together in the past year, which usually makes her sad. Now it’s working in her favor. She likes to think that she can be professional no matter what, but she needs more time before she can see him and react with any equanimity.

When she sees Sam as she’s waiting at the board for rounds, however, she’s unprepared for the surge of white-hot rage that slices through her. Sam greets her tentatively but with no apology or visible sign of regret. Then she groans about the stack of nurses’ orders left from the night shift. Abby abruptly glances away from her before her tongue gets away from her, and her eyes fall on Lydia and Lily, behind Sam. They’ve clearly had a rough night and are barely holding their own tongues in response.

For the past year, she’s tried hard to give Sam the benefit of the doubt, assuming the list of grievances has been exacerbated by her own complicated feelings. But now, all those instances are flooding back and the looks on the faces of her nursing colleagues are clearly telegraphing their own opinions. It’s _not_ just her. 

Which removes any hesitation she might otherwise feel about indulging her petty side. Professionally, of course.

The morning is mostly business as usual, though she doesn’t miss Sam’s surprise at her abruptness, which only irks Abby more. She and Morris are in a trauma with the driver in a collision who is unconscious, clearly under the influence, and Sam comes in.

“Positive for amphetamines and OTH,” Sam calls out. 

Abby can’t resist the jab. “Is that what the lab results show or did you assume and then tell us as if it’s fact?”

Sam’s cheeks turn pink. “Uh, the lab.” She hands them over a little sheepishly, but lifts her chin like she’s annoyed in return. 

Abby looks at the paper herself before turning back toward the patient to find Morris and Chuny looking at her with their eyebrows raised. 

“Ohhhkay, then,” says Morris, who grabs the sheet from Abby.

“Everything okay, Abby?” Chuny whispers, leaning in as Sam moves to grab meds for Morris.

As often as she lies about being fine, she should be able to now, but somehow she can’t. This nonsense has pushed her to the threshold. But she still doesn’t want to spill her guts at work, either, especially in front of Sam. So she kind of shrugs, then shakes her head. Time to refocus on the patient.

A few hours later, Abby is searching for Sam and her patient’s images. She finally finds her changing an IV in Exam 2 on a sleeping patient. “Hey, Sam, are the images back on our soccer player?” She asks, voice low.

Sam pulls the curtain back around the patient and steps out. “I didn’t put in the orders yet.”

Is she kidding? “Why not?”

“I’m getting slammed here. I had to deal with a biting kid, change my IVs, babysit Morris and run his labs.”

Abby breathes in slowly through her nose and silently counts to five. “It’s been a while and I told you to go ahead and send them. If you were too busy to do that, you needed to ask the other nurses for help.”

“Okay, well, I’ll get to it in a minute. You know it’s a sprain, Abby.”

“No, I don’t. And neither do you.”

They stare at each other, in a standoff. Sam breaks first.

“Listen, I know you’re mad about the thing with Luka, and I’m sorry I said anything to him. But I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to take that out on me at work.”

Somebody needs to work on her apologies, not to mention her understanding of appropriateness. 

“Yeah, I am pissed. And maybe I was over the line earlier, though I think it’s deserved because you still don’t seem to get it. But all I’m asking you now is to do your job so that I can do mine.” She takes a deep breath. “I should have said something the first time I noticed you slacking on orders you didn’t agree with or questioning them in front of patients. The reason I didn’t is probably because of Luka. I didn’t want to get in the middle. But since you two decided to put me in the middle anyway, I’m done. Put in the order.”

Abby can’t really read her face, but Sam hesitates before leaving, hopefully to put in the damn order. When she does, Abby slumps and sighs. 

There’s a rustle behind her and she swivels around to find Haleh restocking the room’s cabinet with tubing. “Oh, Haleh, I didn’t see you there. Um, I’m…”

“Thank you,” Haleh says softly, cutting into Abby’s sputtering. “It’s needed saying for a while.” 

Unsure how to respond, Abby tries to smile as she nods and turns to go.

  
  
  


A while later, Abby’s checking on an asthma patient to see that her breathing treatment is helping, when Sam enters and beckons her over. 

“These are the images you wanted.” 

Abby puts them on the X-ray light box and flips the switch, then runs her eyes over the image. Bingo.

“Hairline fracture,” she points out to Sam. “Also could have been an avulsion. Could you get me set up for a cast, please?”

“Sure. Um, listen. I really am sorry about telling Luka. And for jumping to conclusions that weren’t mine to make.”

Abby isn’t quite ready for forgiveness, so she simply turns to look at Sam, who does, finally, look sincerely sorry. Maybe she’s just one of those people who gets defensive when they feel ashamed.

“I was also surprised how seriously he took it. I really didn’t think he’d go over there. I didn’t realize you guys were _that_ close.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that either. Sam doesn’t have a right to Abby’s feelings and it’s more of a question for Luka anyway, though how Sam would think he wouldn’t freak out at that is a mystery. “He can be kind of intense out of the blue sometimes.”

“I guess.” Sam replies. “I really didn’t know him that well.” 

“He can be kind of hard to get to know,” Abby says despite being completely lost at the use of past tense. Did they break up? Not because of what happened with her, surely.

“Abby, Sam! We’ve got incoming. Accident at a manufacturing plant, we need all hands on deck, come on.”

She’s not sure whether she’s annoyed or thankful for Morris’s interruption. On the one hand, she’s dying to know and on the other...it probably doesn’t matter anyway.

  
  
  


Work is a welcome chaotic whirlwind for the next couple of hours. She doesn’t see Sam to speak to again, but she finds that with the genuine apology (and the gossip from Chuny that she and Luka are definitely over), her anger has mostly burned out. Holding grudges has never been her strong suit. The other nurses are giving Sam a bit of a hard time, making sure she’s got the patients who need constant changing and cleansing, not giving her an inch or picking up any of her slack. It’s not so much that anyone would notice, probably, unless they’d been a nurse themselves, but Abby has to bite back a smirk and avoid Malik’s eye when it hits her what they’re doing. She might feel kind of bad if she didn’t believe Sam needs the push to become a team player. That kind of loyalty that sticks even after one crosses to the dark side is something she could both learn and benefit from.

  
  
  
  


Jake calls that evening. She listens to him discuss Tulane and its program, facilities and faculty with resignation. It’s time.

“I know some of these programs are more prestigious, but I still, um, I’m still leaning toward ranking County first.”

“If that’s what you want for you, then great. But don’t do that for me.”

There’s a pregnant pause from the other end. “I guess you haven’t missed me like I hoped.”

“I have. Just not like you wanted me to.”

“Is it too fast? Because I can—”

“It’s not that. I’m not...I’m not where you are.”

“So this was what to you, a fling?

Well... “No, it’s just—” Ugh. Jake’s pissed and she doesn’t blame him, but she also really wants him not to hate her. Even if that’s a little selfish. “I didn’t expect us to get serious, and if we did, I thought by that time that, I don’t know. I’d be ready to move on.”

“Ready to move on from what?”

_Shit._ That is not what she meant to say. Not to him. “I’m just not there, Jake. I’m sorry. You’re such a great guy and I wish—”

A harsh chuckle interrupts her and it cuts. “Don’t tell me what a ‘great guy’ I am.”

“Jake, please don’t—”

She stops. He’s already gone.

It was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t help. She hurt someone she cared about. Her bathtub will probably see some tears in an hour or two, but for now she does feel a small, guilty measure of relief. Saying what’s on your mind does that apparently. Weird.

It looks like a fudge sundae for dinner is necessary tonight.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

Luka’s climbing the generically decorated hotel walls. Work has been alright. He and Sam have a makeshift truce and are managing to work as long as they keep conversation to a minimum. But he still hasn’t been able to talk to Abby even once. They’re working opposite shifts and the few times they’ve overlapped and he’s seen her, Susan has interrupted to call for one of them or send them on a mission. It’s starting to feel like they’re conspiring against him.

He hates living in the hotel. Abby was right, it’s depressing as hell. It doesn’t help that when he had to pack a bag and head out the same night, he went straight to the one where he used to live. It was easier than trying to pick from a myriad of unfamiliar choices, but it was a bad idea. The room he’s in is nearly identical. The ghosts he hears might be a little different now, but they’re equally as loud.

It gives him way too much time to think. This is why he used to go out and drink and find someone to keep him company for a night, but it only ever made him feel more alone afterward.

When the loneliness gets to be too much, he does something he’s been putting off for days and calls his father. While he’s feeling like a failure as a boyfriend, friend, and surrogate father, he might as well be reminded of his failures as a son as well.

The call begins as usual, with Luka’s questions after the family, followed by his carefully cheerful recitation of mundane happenings and his father’s carefully put-on pretense of belief. But somewhere in the middle of it, he finds himself sick of it and hungry for honest connection. The whole thing comes pouring out.

There’s silence for a moment. “Well, it sounds like it was for the best. I’m sorry you’re disappointed.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Mm.”

“I told you I was happy.”

“So you did.” 

Luka sighs in annoyance. There’s always more in what his dad doesn’t say than what he does and sometimes he wishes he’d spit out what he actually means.

“I didn’t know Abby was still there. You haven’t mentioned her in a while.”

“Yeah, she’s an intern at County.”

“How is she?”

“She’s...I don’t really know. That was the first time we talked in a long time.”

“I see. Maybe you should change that. I’ve always liked her.”

“I’m trying but it’s not as easy as it sounds. And you’ve never met her.” Though it’s true, he’s always known his father and Abby would adore each other.

“Didn’t have to. I saw you when you were with her.”

Luka smirks sadly at what an idiot he was then. So in love and too scared and guilty to show it. 

“Yeah, well, I ruined that.” 

To his surprise, his father snorts out a laugh. “If you didn’t manage to ruin it with all that’s already happened between the two of you, I think you can take this. I’ve always thought you should marry that girl.”

It’s that comment that finally breaks the dam holding that back, the pang of longing that he’s ignored for so long. God, he wishes.

“Did you ever ask Sam to marry you?”

“Uh. No.” It hadn’t even occurred to him, really. Never even as a wishful thought. 

After his dad transitions into trying to convince him to go home for a visit and he gives his typical noncommittal response, they end the call happily enough. Luka can’t stop his mind from going back over that question, though. 

He wanted so badly to convince Sam to have a child, so they could be a real family. A real family, in his mind, would include marriage. So why didn’t he ever think to ask?

The answer’s already there waiting once he’s willing to ask it of himself. It was one thing to lie to himself and to Sam about how he felt for her. It was another to get up in front of God and Abby and everybody else and lie about it, to promise to live that lie for his whole life.

He’s been such an idiot.

  
  
  
  
  


The next day dawns with hope which quickly turns to frustration. He and Abby are finally on at the same time. Susan is going over rounds for the day shift when a trauma comes in, and Abby’s name is almost out of his mouth when Neela interrupts and asks to go with him. The patient was impaled at his construction site and she wants to try to run it. Before he can protest, Susan okays it, and he’s off with Neela as his intern. It’s getting ridiculous.

It takes a while to get their patient stabilized and to escort him up to the OR. On the way back down to the ER, he huffs and asks. “So you can be around me now?” Now that Abby is the one avoiding him.

“What?” Neela looks up at him like he has two heads before coloring slightly and looking away. “Oh. That.” 

It embarrasses him at least as much as it does her to bring up her crush, but he’s too annoyed to care at this point. And maybe if he can talk to her, he can get some idea of Abby’s state of mind.

“It wasn’t really wanting you, you know. It was more that I wanted to _be_ you. After Sam’s reaction, it was too awkward to explain.”

“You wanted to be me?” Who would want that? 

“You’re a good doctor. You’re smart and a good diagnostician, but you’re also good at the things that don’t come naturally to me, the people skills.” 

Now it’s his turn to blush.

“Well, with medicine, anyway,” she adds with a wry half-smile before striding away down the ER hallway.

Was he just complimented or roasted? 

  
  


The search for Abby reveals that she’s up in the cath lab with Carter, and the rest of the day is a carousel of similar near-misses. It’s past the end of his shift when he breaks free and rushes to the lounge. Hopefully, he can at least catch her on the way out. 

“Hey, you know where Abby is?” He asks Carter, who’s getting stuff out of his locker.

“Yeah, she left a little while ago.”

Luka can’t help but sigh. Damn it. 

“Still haven’t talked to her yet?”

“Not even about work. We’re hardly on at the same time, and when we are, Susan keeps her away from me.”

Carter moves to check the new schedule on the cork board and sighs himself. Luka looks over his shoulder. “I know, I’m getting sick of you, too.”

Weirdly, Carter ignores that. “Susan does know about you and Sam and Abby, so I don’t blame her for trying to keep Abby away either.” 

Shit. “She told you?”

“Abby did. I get it now, why you freaked out. If you stopped to think, you’d have known better, but...”

Thinking’s not really his forte lately. “Yeah, I know.”

“Susan thinks you and Sam are both dicks. She’d probably be taking it out on Sam if the nurses weren’t doing their thing.”

Huh? “What thing?”

“They’re not letting her keep up some bad habits she developed and you kind of, uh, protected.”

He cringes. Yeah, that’s on him for making questionable judgments in hopes that it would help his relationship. That worked out well.

“It’s not too bad, is it?” 

“Nah, they’re just not letting her slide anymore.”

It’s not too petty to be a little glad about that, he hopes.

“She and Abby had a little face-off, too, but they’re okay now.”

“They did?” How much has he missed?

Carter smirks at him. “Yeah, Abby gave her a bit of a hard time until Sam finally apologized.”

Luka bites back a smile at that. Abby deserves to get some licks in more than anyone. Knowing her, she wasn’t nearly as mean as warranted. But he’s glad for her sake that it doesn’t seem to be carrying on. Maybe that means she’s less upset. That’s not a guarantee, though. She didn’t have any reason to expect much from Sam, but she did from him. 

It’s a few days later when he at last manages to get into a room with her. Of course, Jake is there too, so it’s weird. When he leaves with a backwards glare at Abby, it gets weirder.

“What’s his problem?”

“Uh, we broke up and he’s mad.”

He’s so relieved that he can’t speak for a minute. “I guess that’s going around.”

Abby snorts. “Yeah.”

“Listen, I’m really—”

Jake bursts back in then and yells to Abby that their respiratory patient is crashing and she takes off after him. 

Luka really hates that this job doesn’t allow him to trail her around until they can finish a damn conversation. He tries again after she’s finished with that patient, but she pushes past him, looking upset and he gets pulled aside by Susan. Carter’s headed out to Paris, something with Kem, and he has to help cover.

A few days after that (a few days later than expected), Sam and Alex are completely moved out, and he can go home. It’s his day off, and it would be better to sleep in, but oh well. He does a late checkout at least. 

The place feels bare and nearly as depressing as the hotel, but it’s his. He tries to occupy himself, moving furniture to cover up bare spaces, tidying up, moving his clothes back into the drawers Sam’s had occupied. It’s worse when he goes in Alex’s room and it’s completely empty. They didn’t have a perfect relationship, but he misses him already. Their painful interlude a few days ago when they both tried to pretend they could still hang out (while also clearly knowing they won’t) made him feel terrible. If he had just kept that friendship and left Sam out of it, they’d all have been better off.

As he putters around heating up leftovers for dinner that he doesn’t even want, he doesn’t think of Sam or Alex much, though. It’s the same problem he’s had ever since he let Abby go. The hole made by her absence always remains. No amount of sex or alcohol could fill it, going to Africa didn’t fill it, and even living with another woman and child didn’t. It’s never going to happen.

So why isn’t he trying to fix it?

Screw it, it’s about time for her to be home from work anyway, if she was on today. He isn’t sure. But since he was off, it’s likely she was. At the very least, she deserves a hell of an overdue apology.

Even if it comes from an idiot moping on her doorstep. Again.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Abby puts on her pajamas as soon as she gets home. This week has been the worst, and tomorrow will probably be more of the same. 

Jake is ticked at her, and she gets it, but now she’s starting to get mad too. Even if it is a little funny that he seems to think she’s still hung up on Carter and is getting her just desserts now that he’s run after Kem. She’s not about to correct him. Fortunately he won’t be around much longer. It sucks that she’s glad about it. 

Then there’s work and how she’s messing up stuff she knows. Not all the time, but too much recently. There’s just so much pressure and such high stakes when she screws up. If her head wasn’t wrapped up in the messiness that is her love life, maybe she’d be fine. But it’s not like that’s going to change. Her life certainly isn’t going to get magically easier when she becomes an R2. 

Lastly, of course, there’s Luka. He looks like a kicked puppy whenever she sees him lately, which isn’t much. She hopes he’s alright with the breakup, but she doesn’t feel like she can do or say anything about it. There’s no way she can pretend to be sorry. And she isn’t sure how much their confrontation had to do with it. Hunkering down until that blows over is probably her best bet. 

It doesn’t help that she wants to run her fingers into his hair and comfort him, when that’s the last thing he really deserves or probably wants from her right now.

There’s a thump from the hallway and she goes to check the peephole, but she can’t see anything. A twist of anxiety shoots through her and she almost decides to hide, but she’d rather know than not know. She undoes the latch and opens the door. 

A large man topples backward into her apartment, from his seat against her door.

“Luka, what the hell?! Lurk much? Geez.” She grabs her chest, willing her heart to slow down. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, groaning as he pulls himself back up. “I didn’t think you’d be home yet. Peace offering?”

Against her will, the rocky road ice cream he holds out does soften her a bit. She goes to grab a bowl and a spoon and he follows her to the kitchen, damn it. His presence is too much. It gets worse when she catches him glancing down at her pajamas and lingering on the neckline of her tank top. Does he have to be so irresistible? Especially when she’s angry at him? 

She starts scooping the ice cream into her bowl, trying to calm herself. 

“Do I get any?” Damn him and his puppy eyes. 

“The verdict is still out,” she says, mostly just to prove to herself that she can say no to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to show up here to have any hope of talking to you. I forgot how good you are at avoiding me when you want to.”

That sets her hackles straight back up. “It’s not like I’ve needed to anytime recently.”

He sighs as she puts the ice cream in the freezer. “I know. About when I came here...God, Abby, I’m so sorry. I had to know if it was me, but I should have just asked you.” 

She thaws a tad at the sincerity in his eyes and leans back against her kitchen counter. Before she chickens out, there’s something she has to know. “Did you and Sam break up because of that?” Because of _me,_ she wants to ask but can’t.

“No, we were pretty much over anyway. That sped along my acceptance of it.”

“So you’ve accepted it? Because when I’ve seen you you’ve looked...not accepting.”

“We weren’t right for each other, we didn’t want the same things. Neither of us was happy.”

She quirks her eyebrow. “I could’ve told you that one.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t want to admit I put all that time into a relationship that wasn’t going to work out. And…”

“Alex.” 

“Yeah.”

“Is he why you’ve seemed upset lately?”

“No, that’s because every time I’ve seen you, which is hardly at all, you run away or one of us gets whisked away by Lewis. She’s really pissed at me, huh?”

A chuckle slips out at that. “A little, but that’s more about her working with one of us so she doesn’t have to work with Carter.”

“Huh?” 

She rolls her eyes even as she revels in that familiar adorably oblivious look. “He got tenure and she didn't.”

“Oh. I guess I heard about him, but I didn’t put two and two together. Why does he even want it?”

Abby shrugs, not wanting to derail into that conversation. “Why tonight?”

“What?”

“Why’d you decide to come tonight?”

“Oh, that. I didn’t want to ambush you again, but I got fed up with trying at work. And I…”

He swallows and stares at the floor for a second and it hits her that he’s nervous. Why, she has no idea, but it makes her own pulse quicken. Then he walks over to her and she freezes until he turns to lean against the counter next to her and grabs the spoon from her hand and takes a bite from her ice cream. She’s too surprised to stop him.

“I’ve been staying in hotel—the one I used to live in, remember?”

Goosebumps rise from the feel of his half bare arm against hers as she nods. How could she forget? 

“I stayed there while Sam and Alex were packing and waiting to move into their apartment. And you were right, it’s depressing.”

“Well, yeah. Are you back home now?”

“Today. I thought I’d feel better once I got home, but it's lonely.” 

“I’m sorry.” She isn’t sorry for the breakup, but she does hate that he’s hurting.

He shakes his head. “Not because of Sam. I kept thinking about how I hurt you and wanting to talk and...I miss you, Abby.”

What? Her...what? That tugs at her heart even if the reasoning is tough to follow. “I mean, I guess we can hang out more now.” Her stomach lurches at the next thought. “But not if you’re going to dump me as soon as you get another woman in your bed.”

“That’s not…” Luka takes the bowl too and puts it all in the sink and turns so they’re face to face.

“Hey!” What the hell is he talking about? He’s so confusing.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. Of course I want your friendship back and I’ve missed you so much in that way. But, Abby, I _miss_ you.” Her brain is barely tracking with him, and then he punctuates his words by running his hand up her arm and it short-circuits. 

“Luka.” Even as she’s trying to tell him no because her brain is flashing red and screeching as her danger sirens go off, her body can’t help but pitch forward until she can feel the warmth radiating from his chest and grip one of his arms. It almost makes her close her eyes in pleasure, she’s missed touching him and being touched by him so much. “I can’t…”

He slumps in defeat for a second until she continues. 

“I can’t do some friends-with-benefits thing with you. I can’t turn it on and off like that.”

That seems to make him rally and his hands slide up to cup her cheeks. “I’ve _never_ wanted just sex from you. It’s always been more with us.”

She melts. Resistance is futile, but that fact makes her a little mad. He’s saying this now? He can play her so easily, she ought to be tougher than this. Hell, she _is_ tougher than this. “You just broke up with Sam. I just broke up with Jake. You’re lonely and I’m…” In love with you. And incredibly thrown by this unexpected turn of events. “I can’t be your rebound. I can’t be with you while you’re thinking—”

Luka tilts his head and leans until his mouth is nearly touching hers, and there’s a moment where she could stop him if she wanted to. But she doesn’t. Instead, she lurches up to meet him, and it’s done. Abby’s guard is swept away. The pull of Luka and the want she feels from him is too strong. God, his mouth and his hands and just _him._ He tastes like her ice cream and his mouth is firm and sure and demanding in an even more delicious way.

Finally, he breaks away with a gasp. He pants for a moment, then pulls her face back to look into his. “I have _never,_ not once, touched you and thought of anyone else. Not _ever._ And I never will,” he growls.

It’s incredibly hot when he’s this intense. As for his words, they’ve got her soaring at the truth in his eyes. Questionable timelines and exes and social norms be damned. The anger and frustration from the last couple weeks and the need from the years of missing him solidify into one big hot ball of want and she stares back at him with matching intensity.

“Prove it.”

His jaw drops and his face freezes long enough for uncertainty to creep back in and she breaks her gaze away from his. 

“I mean, only if you—”

The words she’s about to say are cut off by his mouth. In one movement, he’s kissing her again, and his hands are lifting her by her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist as he walks her out of the kitchen. He nibbles her bottom lip before sweeping his tongue inside and ahh, she almost can’t handle how much she feels. In the living room, he pauses and pulls his mouth from hers. She can’t help the tiny squeak of protest, and he smiles in response. 

“Bed?”

“Yes,” she whispers before groaning when he grabs her ass to shift her weight, and the next thing she knows, they’re on her bed. She frantically pulls his t-shirt over his head then grazes her palms back down his chest and lightly rakes her nails down his stomach, grinning wickedly as his muscles jump and he moans.

That knowledge of how to drive the other wild goes both ways, though, and he proves it the next second by finding the exact spot on her neck to do just that as his hand slips under her tank top to stroke her waist. She almost forgot what a tease he could be when he wanted. Arching up under him as he oh-so-slowly kisses down to her shoulder and chest, down to where the strap of her shirt has slipped down, right above where she wants him then pauses, brings it screeching back. 

“Fuck,” she gasps out. 

Grinning up at her, looking more beautiful than any man has a right to, he laughs a little. “I’m getting there.”

Infuriating man. 

To soothe her, he lifts up to peck her nose. “Be patient. I want it to last.”

Hell, she does too, but she doesn’t want to combust in the process. “Three and a half years.”

“Mm,” he nods and kisses her again. Sliding his hand along her waist, his fingers move to toy with her drawstring. 

Before he can even get the question out, as he looks to her, she hisses. “Please.”

Even if she could, she wouldn’t dream of stopping. Not just because of the heat between them that has their bodies fused. But it’s the sweetness between them, being allowed to touch him again, to let her thumbs skate across his cheeks and over the dimples far too rarely seen, to kiss his nose, his stubborn jaw, to thread her fingers into his hair and hold him tightly to her, that has her melted into a puddle. Surely he can see her heart on full display, with the desperate way she’s crying out his name over and over as if to make up for all the times she’s wanted to in the past few years, and she doesn’t care. If this is her chance to love him, she’s going to do it well.

The feel of him is so overwhelming that she comes almost embarrassingly quickly against his hand, burying her face in his bare chest as she blisses out. She remains there to catch her breath and delights in how he shifts to hold her tightly to him and press his lips to her head until she stops shaking. 

His fingers and mouth seem as hungry as hers, making short work of her tank top to seek out every inch of skin. It’s reverent, the way they touch each other. Their hands know exactly where to go and how to stoke fire in each other, but they also travel everywhere, visiting every familiar landmark as well as cataloguing the changes. The deeper worry lines in his forehead, the freckle on her shoulder, the scar on his abdomen, the (hopefully not too much) deeper crease between her eyebrows. It’s when his thumb finds the chicken pox scar below her right breast and his lips follow that her need reaches a fever pitch and she reaches down to unbutton his jeans.

As he jerks back in surprise, his grip tightens on her hips and makes her gut twist. He’s a beautiful wreck. His eyes are wild and bright, his hair a disheveled mess, his lips are swollen and red, and she’s never wanted anyone more. Which is saying a lot, because she has always, always wanted him beyond reason.

“Are you—?” He looks into her eyes.

She practically cuts him off. “Yes.” Reaching over to the nightstand, she pulls out supplies and tosses them on the bed.

His grin is beautiful and she finds herself grinning back, though hers turns slightly evil as she goes back to his button and he groans her name. He lifts up to help her, then returns the favor before laying her down and…

Oh, she’s missed this.

As close to him as humanly possible, she’s not holding back. She wants more, _more,_ and faster, but she also wants it to last forever. It feels too good, though. Before long, she’s squeezing her eyes shut, about to tip over, when he stops. She’s about to scream in frustration when he speaks, or rather begs.

“Open your eyes.”

Obeying his plea, her eyes shoot open to find his searing gaze and hold it as they continue, heart bursting as much as her body. His eyes are so soft and dark, vulnerable and open, speaking louder than words. She knows for sure then (much as she knows she’ll question later) that this means as much to him as it does to her. There’s no going back after this.

She holds her eyes open until she can’t anymore and says his name as she tumbles over, barely aware of how it sounds like a question. “Luka?”

A moment later, he follows, groaning and rolling to avoid crushing her. That self-satisfied smirk he always gets afterward appears. As she kisses it off his face, she thinks it would be more irritating if it weren’t so well-deserved. 

Holding her close on top of his chest, he kisses her cheek and answers, his voice full of wonder and contentment. “Abby.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Luka bask in the afterglow of what happened between them and try to figure out what the heck they're doing.

Luka wakes to the feel of a body against his own in the early morning and smiles in recognition before the memory hits him. _Abby._ That really happened. 

It was perfect. It _is_ perfect and right and he’s not letting her go again. He just has to get her on board with that. Without scaring her too much. Easier said than done, he knows all too well, but he can be patient—and as stubborn—as she is.

She rolls over then, turning toward him and nestling against his shoulder. A hum of satisfaction escapes her before her breathing evens out again and Luka’s heart swells. It’s like she knows it’s him. Or at least he hopes she does. 

That pull toward each other, she feels it too—the way she looked at him last night with her heart in her eyes is proof. During her talk about how she couldn’t be “friends with benefits”. He stifles a snort. Impossible. What they are is far too important to risk on some ‘benefits’, no matter how incredible those benefits are. And boy, are they ever.

At that thought, he finds himself stirring. Inadvertently, his hand tightens on her waist (oh, she feels perfect in his hands), and she shifts.

“Luka.” She mumbles with her eyes still closed. A moment later, she goes stiff as a board, alerting him that she’s now fully conscious. Her eyes fly open. “Luka?!”

The freak out is right on schedule. In hopes of heading it off, he goes with his first instinct, cups her cheek in his hand and gives her a slow, tender kiss. Immediately, he feels the tension drain out of her as she melts into the kiss and into him. He takes a half second to recognize that his theory is correct: any fear or resistance she has crumbles when he touches her. (Her touch would crumble his too, if he had any to begin with.)

The sound of her gasp is addictive. Determined to hear more of that, he moves the hand she’s lying on behind her head and slides the other down her body as he keeps kissing her. It doesn’t take long before there’s more panting into each other’s mouths than there is kissing. Abby suddenly shoves him onto his back and climbs over until she’s straddling him and it’s his turn to gasp. Hell yes. He loves to watch her. Moving to kiss her chest now that it’s nice and accessible, he relishes the way she gasps yet again. 

“I need...we need…” She gestures helplessly toward the drawer.

He doesn’t even pull his mouth away, just murmurs against her skin. “Go ahead.”

“I can’t even— _think_ —while you—do that.” Her fingers tighten in his hair and he pulls away to let her move. Her eyes are half-focused, and her skin is flushed. Seeing her lost in wanting him is the biggest turn-on there is.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip to unsuccessfully bite back a grin at her hovering over him. She shakes her head at him even as her own smile stretches wide. 

Planting a hand on his chest, she leans over to open the drawer before stopping still. 

“What?”

“It’s getting light outside. Did I forget to set the alarm?”

Abruptly climbing off him, she launches herself to the other side of the bed to check the clock. “Shit! I’ve only got forty minutes to get to work. Are you on?”

Oh, right. “Yeah,” he groans.

Frantically throwing drawers open, she spares a look at him. “Don’t you need to get moving?”

“I need a minute.” Dressing won’t take him long anyway, since all he has are his clothes from yesterday. Provided he can calm himself down. Which, although the cold from her body pulling away from his own is helping, watching her run around naked is not. He’s this close to trying to convince her that being late isn’t such a bad idea.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’ll just…” She darts out to the bathroom.

A sigh escapes him, even as he mentally recites football stats to himself. All he wants to do today is be alone with her. Not work. At least they’ll be together. The thought is enough to get him out of bed to pick his clothes off the floor.

By the time she comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, she looks remarkably put together, though still flustered.

“Just give me a minute in the bathroom and then we can go.”

“Oh, I was going to go straight to the L now.”

“I have my car, we can go together. It won’t take any longer.”

“Are you sure?” She purses her lips and he wonders if that’s really the problem. 

“Yeah. But it’s up to you.” He presses the lid on the travel mug of coffee he prepared for her and hands it and the packet of pop-tarts (even as he wants to cringe at her nutrition habits) to her.

“Oh. Thanks.” She looks down in surprise and he kisses her cheek before taking off for the bathroom.

It’s so hard not to push. But he knows her. She’ll overthink this and worry and ferret out every possible way in which they might not work. Despite all the evidence that, if they really try, there’s almost no way that they _won’t_ work.

She’s waiting for him when he comes out, with another cup for him, and he kisses the top of her head rather than saying all the sweet nothings that come to mind.

Once they’re in the car, he waits for her to drink most of her coffee before speaking. “About last night.” He has no idea how to continue. Saying it’s a dream come true sounds stupid and cheesy and like a lot of pressure she won’t appreciate. Even though it’s the truth.

“Yeah, last night was...it was good.” 

Good? That’s it? It’s not exactly the ringing endorsement he would hope for, but he looks over and the way her cheeks bloom red again and she bites her lip speaks louder.

“It was great.” They share another giddy smile before he has to pay attention to the road. They ride in mostly comfortable silence.

When they’re almost at work, he has to ask. “Are we okay? I mean, not about, uh that, but about—about the thing with Sam?”

It’s a tough moment before she responds. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not still mad, really, and I know you’re sorry. But…”

Shit. He really hurt her and it’s more than just about that night. But how can he make it up to her? 

A horrible thought occurs to him. “You know that last night wasn’t a, um, an apology. I mean, I came to apologize, but that wasn’t why I kissed you. Or anything else.”

“I know.”

He finds a somewhat distant spot on the street and parallel parks, then looks at her.

“I know you wouldn’t do that. Anyway, I’m not going to forgive you just because you got me off a couple of times.”

A smile spreads across his face against his will as he allows her to tug them back to safer, flirtier ground. “So how many times will it take? Because I’m up for as many as you need.”

A surprised giggle tumbles out of her. She shakes her head at him like she wants to tell him to shut up, however, the soft delight in her eyes ruins any censure. Grabbing her bag, she reaches for the door handle.

Before she can jump out, he reaches over to enfold her in his arms and give her a soft kiss. He tries to pour into it everything that he doesn’t dare say yet—how committed he is and how real this is for him. When he pulls away, one hand still gently cupping her cheek, her eyes remain closed as she savors it. 

Every time he has one of these moments he thinks he can’t fall deeper in love with her, there’s another one.

“Tonight,” he says, deciding on the spot. “Why don’t you come over to my place and we’ll talk?” 

“Talk?” She raises an eyebrow at him. 

“We will talk. That doesn’t have to mean that we only talk, right?”

“Right.” She’s smiling up at him indulgently and he wonders if she has any idea how much her teasing and sparkling eyes tempt him.

She must realize, because as he’s gazing at her lips, they turn down into a playful frown. “No funny business at work, mister.”

“So I shouldn’t meet you in exam three to find the gift in my pocket?” He gives her an exaggerated wink.

Her laughter is beautiful and he’s missed it terribly. Though he’s played himself a bit, now he can’t help but fantasize about getting her alone somewhere. Oops. He clears his throat and tries, with limited success, to switch to work mode.

* * *

  
  
  


Abby is...well, she ought to be really freaked out. She ought to be more worried about their friendship and Jake and Sam and work, but honestly, she doesn’t care about any of that right now. Her cheeks actually hurt from smiling. 

“What’s with you today?” Neela finally asks. “After yesterday, I definitely didn’t expect you to be so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

“Uh, well, I had a really good night…’sss sleep,” she tacks on the end a little late and pretends not to notice Neela’s appraising stare. Part of her wants to share the news that’s bubbling inside and making her giddy, but the other part wants to hold the secret close. Jake walks up then to let Neela know about one of their patients who needs her, and she’s reminded of why it’s best not to talk about any of this at work anyway.

Gravitating toward Luka is much simpler than avoiding him. Now that they have no reason to fight it, they wind up working together more than not. Thankfully, she’s had a lot of practice working with him while feeling things, so her work doesn’t suffer. If anything, she’s better for it. She’s more confident, more secure with his trusting presence by her side. That’s probably why, while she can feel the looks they’re getting from the rest of the staff, nobody’s calling them on it.

When she catches herself staring at his hands as he sutures a head wound on a car crash victim, however, she tells herself to get a grip. On anything other than him. This poor teenage boy has a head wound, for crying out loud, but all she can focus on is the movement of Luka’s hands, delicate and nimble in spite of his long fingers, and she—she needs a moment. Tossing out a half-assed excuse, she goes to get some supplies, conveniently ignoring that everything they need is already in the room. 

Away from him, her thoughts clear a little. It shouldn’t be so hard. She’s been able to hold back for years, after all. Maybe that’s the problem, now that she’s letting it out she can’t stop. She looks frantically around, grabs a box of gauze from the hallway shelf and a couple deep breaths before returning.

As she enters, she passes Luka the gauze and he tapes it into place then squints at her. “Everything alright?”

“Yep,” she says, willing her cheeks not to heat and for him to not make any further inquiries. 

It’s plain that he doesn’t want to let it go but, after a look, he does. 

Oh, she's missed him. She hasn’t been able to be in his presence like this, not to really see him. Her ability to hide her feelings is good, but not _that_ good. Gratitude rushes over her that there’s no need for that now. At least not with him. Even if they’re not technically together, they’re _something,_ at least, and she’s allowed to look at him, touch him, and be herself with him.

After he gives the patient directions for his stitches, they leave sutures and he stops her before she can take off down the hallway. “Hey, are you okay? Did I do something?” He swallows and looks down. She realizes he’s as nervous as she is that something might mess this up.

“No. No, I just, um, needed a minute.” 

Something in her face must give her away, because she sees the lightbulb turn on. A satisfied smirk tugs at his lips. “Oh?”

Her eyes roll at him as well as herself. Smug shouldn’t be so attractive. Sparkling green eyes are drawing her in and then the bastard licks his damn lips. Is that a nervous tic or is he aware of how badly it makes her own tongue want to follow the same path? His smile widens before his eyes flick down and she follows them to where her hand is resting on his chest. Oops. Her cheeks flame. It takes her a moment to convince her traitorous hand to remove itself from Luka’s person. By the time she does, his eyes have grown dark and he’s now staring at her mouth. Instead of fighting him, her mind starts flipping through their options for privacy. She’s this close to pulling him down the hall to see if the on-call room is empty when footsteps approach and she jumps back guiltily.

“Hey, Kovač, Pratt’s looking for you.” Susan’s approaching them with a glint in her eye.

“Okay, I’ll go find him,” Luka replies and moves to go, but not without a backward glance which Abby interprets as _“Hold that thought.”_ That’s an unnecessary message. It’ll be harder to concentrate on anything else.

By the time she manages to snatch her eyes away from his retreating form and turn them to Susan, her friend’s eyebrows are sky high. “It looks like you two are on better terms?” There’s a wealth of implication in her tone which Abby chooses to ignore for now.

“Yep, mostly. We talked.” Sort of, anyway. Still, she can’t help the little smile that tugs at her mouth.

“Hmm. I see. Well, good, now I don’t have to worry about the two of you working together.”

“You didn’t _really_ have to anyway.”

“Yeah, you usually manage to keep it professional with him no matter what—unlike him and some people—but I didn’t want to do that to you if you were uncomfortable.”

“Thanks. But yeah, you definitely don’t have to keep us apart anymore.” Not for arguments, at least. 

“I guess not. See you later,” Susan says as she turns to head down the back hallway. Abby could swear she hears her mutter something like “Gotta go move up my bet,” but surely not.

  
  


Only one thing happens to make her feel a twinge of regret. 

She and Luka are in trauma two with a couple of nurses plus Jake. While focusing on the patient, she’s still vaguely aware of how Luka is maneuvering around her as he has her run the trauma. It’s not sexual, not at all. It’s only because he’s so pointedly avoided touching her at all for so long that makes her heart flutter at the change when he brushes against her closely or grabs her by the shoulders to gently shift her out of his way.

When they get their patient stable and on the way to neurology, Luka leans down to say “Good job.” His hand is warm on her back, his face is close, and she can’t help but grin back when he’s beaming proudly like this. 

Her eyes flit away and unfortunately land on Jake’s wide ones. She didn’t even know he was still there. Guiltily, she pulls away from Luka with a shaky “Thanks,” as Jake speeds out the door. Luka blinks at that, then winces apologetically, as if he’s just now realized they weren’t alone. She shrugs it off. 

Despite that niggling in the back of her mind, she doesn’t think about it too much until the end of the day when she goes to the lounge to grab her bag of emergency extra clothes. She’s trying to be stealthy, doing this while Luka’s finishing up pass-ons and hopefully slipping out to his car so no one sees them walk out together. Unfortunately, Jake comes in just as she’s opening her locker.

He goes to pour himself a cup of coffee as she tries to act nonchalant. With his back to her, he asks.

“So. Not Carter, huh?” The wry, sheepish tone he says it in makes her relax a bit. 

“Nope.” Her cheeks heat. “I’m sorry you found out like that.” She jerks around to look at him as she realizes how that might sound. “Nothing happened while we were together.”

“I know, Abby. And it’s...it’s okay.” He seems to almost mean it, and that makes her feel less of a heel. “But if you two are trying to keep a secret, that’s probably not how to do it.”

She almost argues back that no one else would notice because they used to be that way even when not together. But she’s not sure it’s true. They were close, of course. They were also, intentionally, friends who didn’t touch often. On her part, because she was afraid after one touch...well, last night is a perfect example. But Jake came after Sam and Alex moved in. He only knows them as the distant, somewhat friendly exes and coworkers they’ve pretended to be these past few, far too long, months.

“Your last day is tomorrow?”

“Yeah, then I leave for California two days after that.”

“How do you feel about that?” Guilt tugs at her as she thinks of how far away he’s going until he responds.

“I feel really good about it. You were right,” he says, a little begrudgingly. “I was mad, but it was right that you told me before I made a decision.”

Something untwists in her gut and she smiles back. As long as they’re clearing the air. “Listen, I really wasn’t using you or anything like that. I was trying to move on with you.”

“I know.”

“If it was going to be anybody else...” She doesn’t know why, but she feels like she can’t help but tell him the truth. 

The slightly pained look he gives her makes her cringe. “Sorry, is that better or worse?”

“A little of both.” He tilts his head. “Better for the long run, maybe.”

The door opens and Luka comes in. He’s obviously taken aback at finding the two of them together, and he awkwardly shifts and looms in the doorway as she bites her lip.

Jake breaks the silence with a quiet laugh and an eye roll. “You can quit trying to hide that bag and go. It’s fine.”

“Uh, good luck with your internship,” Luka says before glancing at Abby and leaving as soon as Jake thanks him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” This is their real goodbye, though, and they both know it. She smiles sadly, though glad she’s maybe not losing a friend.

“Yeah. See you.” He gives her a real smile before she leaves to follow Luka.

Wow, he moved fast. She doesn’t see him anywhere as she walks past admit and into the ambulance bay. 

“Abby.” His voice comes to her out of the dark.

“Are you lurking again?”

“I thought you wanted to be discreet.”

She did. Or does. But it makes her feel a little weird for him to sneak around.

“Everything okay with Jake?”

“Yeah, he just...well, until today, he thought we broke up because I was hung up on Carter.”

“Ah.” The wheels turning in his head are nearly audible. “Why did he think that?” He can’t really be concerned about _that,_ can he? But she does hear a note of worry.

“He must have heard some gossip. I don’t even know what he knew about us before.” Abby’s grateful for the darkness as she is definitely blushing in remembrance of what she said to make Jake think that. It might not be so bad for Luka to find out that she’s hung up on him, but she’d rather he not know exactly how long she’s been pining. 

“What do you think about him going back to Africa?” 

She looks up at his question, but he’s determinedly not looking at her. She isn’t sure if he’s truly concerned about this or if jealousy of Carter is a reflex for him. Either way, it’s easy to disabuse him of that notion.

“I think it’s great. His work there really matters to him and he was so happy when he was with Kem.” They reach Luka’s car and she pauses as he opens the passenger door for her. “He’s my friend and I’ll miss him, but I think it’s the right thing.”

His face eases as she says it and she squeezes his arm before climbing inside. 

“Me too,” he replies before shutting the door.

* * *

  
  
  


Luka ushers Abby into his apartment and watches as she enters slowly and looks around. He wonders what she’s looking for.

“What?”

“It looks the same.”

He glances around and nods before turning back to her. “Yeah.” She looks relieved, and he realizes it’s because she was afraid of confronting Sam’s presence here. With the recent reminder of Carter, he has to wonder if she has a similar lingering fear, however unfounded.

The need to touch her hits him like a wave. Closing the distance between them, he wraps his hands around her waist and leans down to gently kiss her smile. The mood between them shifts lightning quick, and it doesn’t take long until she’s arching up against him as he kisses her deeply. 

She pulls away just enough to murmur. “We’re supposed to talk?”

Words aren’t happening at the moment, so he kisses her again instead and she slides her hand under his shirt. 

“After,” she answers her own question, pulling away to head up the stairs.

He pauses long enough to appreciate the sight of her taking charge here, in his home, and swiftly follows.

  
  


“Oh my God.” Abby hides her face in her hands, but he can hear her smile.

“Good ‘oh my God’ or bad? I’m pretty sure the ones last night were good.”

“Shut up!” She hisses and smacks him on the chest. He gets a peek at her red cheeks before she tucks them and her whole face against his shoulder. “Not bad ‘oh my God’. Of course it was good. It’s just…” 

“I meant what I said last night. You’re not a rerun.”

“Rebound.” She smiles as he knew she would. “And I know. But our timing sucks. Always has, really.”

It's true. Their timing might be unconventional, but Luka doesn’t care. The last 24 hours have been some of the best of his life and he refuses to feel bad about it. Unless she...he pulls back to prop himself on his elbow so he can see her better. “Do you regret it?”

“No!” Her vehement response makes him close his eyes in relief. “But should we really be doing this?”

His stomach sinks. “Do you—” he swallows. “Want to stop?” _Please, no._

“No,” she shakes her head as she says it and he can see she means it. Thank God. “But neither of us is good at this. We hurt each other before. And we both just got out of relationships and your friendship really matters to me and I don’t want to mess that up.”

The utter confusion and the babbling puts a stop to his own momentary panic. His poor, scared Abby. How to proceed? Telling her straight out that they’re together now for good, as far as he’s concerned, is guaranteed to make her run.

There’s so much he could say. He could point out how much better they know each other now, how much stronger a foundation they have for a relationship. He could remind her how being apart certainly hasn’t kept them from hurting each other. He could reassure her that he’ll never willingly leave her again. He could admit how much he loves her. 

But while she seems much more open to him, he can’t help but be a little scared himself. If he spooks her, the injury to both of them would be acute. 

“I think we take it one step at a time. And we let ourselves…” He clears his throat, overwhelmed by the vulnerability. “We let ourselves enjoy it this time.” 

Her brow clears as she looks at him. “Okay.” Her fingers run through his hair and a sigh of contentment escapes him as he pulls her closer.

The tenderness with which she strokes his cheek, like she’s remembering him, nearly undoes him. They spend the next while quietly cuddling and caressing until his heart is about ready to explode. They haven’t really gotten the heat out of their systems, though, so it starts to take a turn. Abby kisses his chest before sliding up to take his mouth ferociously. He’s about to pull her on top of him when her stomach growls.

“Oh, I forgot to feed you. Hungry?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sighs in slight annoyance, which he ignores. They have time.

“Come on, I’ve got stuff for sandwiches downstairs.” Fortunately, grocery shopping was one of his time filler tasks yesterday. He sits up and reaches for his boxers.

Moving to grab his shirt, he finds it missing. Abby has stolen it and the sight of her in his shirt is the cutest thing he’s seen since, well, probably the last time he saw her in his clothes.

“Come on, I want to hurry up and eat. Then we can get back to the enjoyment.”

As he watches her brush crumbs off his shirt while they sit at his table, scantily dressed and basking in each other’s company, he can’t help but think that he’s the luckiest man in the world. For once.

  
  



End file.
